I got a FABULOUS new bra today, and it makes the little ladies look like national monuments.
But that isn’t what this post is about. This post is about the abundance that comes with removing the old, the outdated, the negative, and all the things that are no longer good for you. I’ve read about it, I’ve heard Oprah talk about it, but until I really started doing it, I didn’t realize that it was true. I mean, really, truly true.
I realize that I have been waxing philosophical in the last few posts, but that is just because I have been bogged down under the weight of decades of reflection, and when I looked at things for what they really were and realized that, much like my “fat” clothes, I no longer had a use for them, I had to stuff it all into big lawn-and-leaf-sized trash bags and cart if off to the Goodwill so someone else could make use of it.
When I did that, a great space opened up and I already had a dazzling array of fabulousness to fill the void. Not only did the skinny jeans slip right on, but friends I thought I had lost forever started filing back into my life. Friends like Natasha, who – during our time together in catholic school – had boundless energy, immaculate handwriting, a mother who bought us matching fuzzy hats, and who giggled a LOT.
I also got Willow back. Willow was my first best friend after I moved to Arizona who, in spite of the fact that I wore a disco Pink Panther iron-on shirt to school, and also in spite of the fact that my poorly cut androgynous hair (which I wore like a snap-on lego helmet) led her to wonder if I was a boy at first glance, chose to look past my outward weirdness and we became fast friends. We played Barbies, learned to do back-walkovers together, and watched Duran Duran videos on her state-of-the-art, top-loading, corded VHS player. We also laughed so hard that I cannot calculate with any accuracy the times that we made each other piss our pants laughing…literally.
With Willow comes Sable, her younger sister, who was as much a part of the full gestalt of fun as either of the other of us were, but sadly fell victim to “little sister” syndrome and got booted out of the fun more times than I am willing to admit. A memory that makes me sad in retrospect, since it was really our loss more than it was hers. I fondly recall being chauffered around by their ridiculously glamorous mother, who smoked cigarettes with a Cruella DeVille filter, and had mad accordian skills. She drove a yellow dodge van with a fully carpeted interior. We didn’t know we were riding around in a shaggin’ wagon, but we wouldn’t have cared, anyhow.
In all cases, with these friends we had SO MUCH FUN.
I got to have lunch with Sable recently and she’s a grown-up now, but still almost made me piss myself…I don’t even think she knows how much fun I had at lunch that day…the only thing that she and I and my hubby did was laugh. I don’t even remember eating. I can’t wait until she comes back to visit and brings WILLOW with her!! (hint hint)
I get to see Natasha for the first time in probably 27 years in a little over a week, and I am so excited. I mean, we each have 27 years to cover, so collectively 54 years of catching up. Holy crap. I don’t think she knows, but I plan on digging out some pictures that I have…*evil laughter*…I’m sure her hubby and kiddies will enjoy seeing those!
That, plus the national book deal, plus a project I can’t even officially MENTION right now, but suffice it to say you will be seeing a LOT more of me, there is no way that cutting the ballast is a bad thing.
The bottom line is this: if it makes you feel bad, get rid of it. If it has become infected, lance it. If it is gangrenous, cut it off. You will grieve for what is gone, but you will find joy in what is sent to replace it. You will realize that those limits you once felt you had were not placed there by you to begin with, they were only placed there to act as a mental fence so that you would remain misery’s company.
Misery can find someone else to be its bitch. I’m done.
